


A Gift

by bluesilksilverspurs



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-13 14:28:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28904886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluesilksilverspurs/pseuds/bluesilksilverspurs
Summary: You buy Kieran a gift in St. Denis, but are anxious about giving it to him.
Relationships: Kieran Duffy/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	A Gift

**Author's Note:**

> This was written as a request for the lovely @mesangelique on Tumblr.

The ride home to Camp from Saint Denis seemed to take forever. The sky was a dusky blue, everything shimmering in a haze of late summer heat. Your horse trotted surefooted along the lake shore, the slight breeze coming off the water lifting the stray hairs that stuck to the nape of your neck. You weren't used to the weather this far south, not the heat, not the humidity. You squeezed your thighs against the horse's sides, slowing her down a little as you rounded the embankment and Clemens Cove came into view - the gang's home for the present, though for how long that would remain the case was anyone's guess. Moving around used to worry you, stress you, and in a way it still did, but necessity breeds adaptation, and you knew that it was one of those things this life brought with it. Home had stopped being a place a long time ago.  
You guided your horse along the outskirts of the camp to the feeding station on the north edge, bypassing the free spaces near the hustle and bustle of the main fire. Squinting a little against the sun refracting off the lake, you finally found who you were looking for.  
Kieran had been standing with his back to the camp when you'd arrived, studiously brushing down Taima, Charles' horse, but on hearing hoof beats, he'd turned to face you. You waved happily to him, a smile breaking across your face that was genuine and unguarded. Not many people made you feel so at ease, but somehow Kieran did, although he'd only been with the gang a few months (and had spent a not inconsiderable amount of that time as a hostage). There was a sweetness about him that made your cheeks flush whenever you spoke with him.  
As always, he looked surprised at first, wary of almost everyone, until the shock faded into a grin when he realised it was you. He walked over, dropping the brush on a bale of hay near the horses, and extended a hand that you took gladly - you didn't need help to dismount, you both knew that, but you loved the gesture. You'd grown to love a great many things about Kieran, his quiet nature, his shy, intense desire. The way he could make you snort with laughter with dry observations about life at camp. Maybe the others didnt see him the way you did, but you knew fine well you were smitten.   
You'd been together for a while now. You hadn't been sure in the beginning if he was interested, or simply paralysed with anxiety. You knew you'd be waiting a long time for him to make the first move though and so you had forced yourself to take that first frightening step. You had made up some excuse, asked him something about a new piece of tack, and he'd been glad to keep, fussing over your horse with sure, firm hands, confident in his area of expertise. You watched him, your heart in your mouth, sweating hands clenched tight at your side, while he showed you the best way to seat it, to keep it supple, and when he paused, to look at you quizzically, you knew you had been caught staring. And then you had asked him in one quick breathless sentence if you could play cards with him later. He looked confused, you remembered, as though waiting habitually for a punchline that often ended up being him. When he realised you were serious, he'd nodded quickly, his face scarlet, and then scurried off across camp in search of a horse brush. You remember grinning because he had been holding one when he had gone dashing away. But he had come to you that night, oddly formal with the pack of cards in his hands, and you'd gone to sit with him under the trees near the scout fire. Horseshoe Overlook had been a smaller camp, but it seemed as though the rest of the wagons and tents and people were somewhere else - you couldn't focus on anything other than him, the way the fire cast warm shadows across his face, his serious expression when he was concentrating on the cards, the way his hand would tremble as he reached out for the bottle you passed to him. You remembered wondering if you had only imaginated the taste of his mouth on it when he passed it back to you. Neither of you had knew what the rules were, or had known where the boundaries lay, but you remember feeling a warmth you'd almost entirely forgotten find most of the hard frozen pieces of you when he'd gently taken your hand when you'd moved to sit side by side, looking into the dancing flicker of the fire.  
The way he held your hand now as you slid down from your horse was the same as back then. Hesitant, careful - as though you were something breakable. Something he'd ruin. You squeezed his fingers, and turned to hitch your horse. You wanted to kiss him, but you knew he didnt like the public attention. More than almost anything else, you knew he wanted to go unnoticed, unremarked, and it always made you sad, though you could understand why he felt like that. He'd had a real rough time of it - most of you at camp had, in one way or another.  
"Did ya have a nice time in the big smoke?" He asked, loosening the saddle on your horse to oil it. He was great with all the horses, but he spoiled yours almost as much as Branwen.   
"Yep. Glad to be back though - I don't think city life is for me. But," you reached into one of the saddlebags that he'd hooked over the hitching post, "I have a little present for you."   
Kieran arched his eyebrows. He looked adorable, and you felt a happy leap of nerves in your stomach.  
"For - for me?" he asked.  
"Well, for Branwen, I suppose, technically." You smiled as you placed a shiny new brass tin of horse ointment into his hand. He turned it over, and beamed at you.  
"Thanks! She's still got that little graze on her right shoulder. I've tried burdock leaf and it helped, a bit, but this will be just the thing. It's really kind of you."  
You smiled and squeezed his arm as you passed him. "You are very, very welcome. I'd better go clean the smog of the city off me." You gave him a little wave and started across camp, clutching the unopened saddlebag to your chest.

The moon was out, riding a sky that was clear spare for some Iow scuds of cloud in the west. Most of the gang were in camp that night - or in the woods around it if they'd pulled guard duty - and the atmosphere was bright and lively. The cold mountains, the Colter camp, hell, even Blackwater seemed to be so long ago as to be someone else's memory. You knew that this distance wouldn't last, that soon you'd be jolted back into stark reality but for tonight, sitting in the light of the main fire, listening to Javier plucking beautiful notes from his guitar and weaving them in the air, you didn't mind forgetting.  
Kieran sat cross legged by your side, slightly back from the main circle, who were now beginning a rousing chorus led by Uncle. You were glad he'd come over - he didn’t usually feel comfortable, didn't want to overstep the mark and provoke anyone, but he sat happily with you, nursing a bottle of beer, his splayed fingers touching yours on the ground between you both.  
You turned to him, as though just remembering something. "I almost forgot! I got you a little something in Saint Denis."  
He chuckled, frowning in mild confusion. "I know - you gave me it earlier, remember? The ointment?"  
You gave him a sly little smile, your pinkie finger tracing a line down the back of his hand.  
"That was a present for Branwen. Come to my tent in ten minutes?" Before he could answer or protest, you'd pushed yourself to your feet, called a goodnight to the others, and trotted quick time towards your tent.

The tent wasn't large, but it was private, a cross between a lean to and a covered canvas one like John's. It lay just beside one of the trees at the edge of camp. You went in and let the flaps fall into place before lighting the small lantern on the chest beside the bed, moving quickly. Your hands trembled a little with excitement as you withdrew the delicately wrapped tissue package from the bag on the bed. This wasn’t something you'd done before, but standing before the little shop in town you'd had the idea and…

You waited, listening intently to the sounds around the tent. It had been ten minutes, and an intoxicating mixture of nerves and dizzy excitement, lust and longing, had begun to fizz through your veins.  
Beneath the swing of Uncle's singing, becoming more disjointed by the hour as the alcohol kept flowing, and muffled by the heavy canvas, you heard bootsteps approaching slowly. Your pulse seemed to still as you held your breath, waiting.  
"Y/n?" Kieran's voice was soft, quiet. You wondered if he thought you had simply gone to bed, pulled the covers down.  
"Hey Kieran," you answered, rising and crossing the tent to its entrance in a few quick steps. You didn't open the covers right away, pausing with your fingertips lightly brushing them. "Darlin', would you do something for me?" You could almost feel his nervous energy radiating from where he stood only feet away, separated from you by the canvas.  
"S-sure, yea, of course."  
You smiled, biting your lip. "I need you to close your eyes. I'm gonna take your hand and bring you in, but you have to  
keep your eyes closed, okay?"  
"Uh, yea, I can do that," he said, confusion lacing his voice before he added "Oh! Because of the present! I won't try and look, I promise." You wondered if he'd decked the rest of the bottle he'd been holding when you'd left him by the fireside. You had never met someone so nervous.  
"Okay, give me your hand". You undid some of the toggle fastenings that kept the flaps closed and reached your hand out, feeling the cold air hit your skin and then the warm weight of his settling into it, his long fingers curling instinctively with yours. "Alright, come in - mind the little step there…" You guided him inside, carefully opening and then dropping the canvas closed, fastening a few at the toggles. This was something you only wanted Kieran to see.   
Your hand still linked with his, you walked around to stand in front of him. He was a good deal taller than you, especially  
when you were stood in your stocking soles. He looked handsome, his dark brown hair and sparse beard contrasting with the white of his shirt, his eyes scrunched tightly, keeping his end of the bargain.  
"So… can I open my eyes now? The suspense is killing me." He said happily, and you felt a giddy leap in your stomach. You covered the hand you were holding with your free one.  
"Not yet. I... I want you try to guess what it is".  
"Oh! Okay, but I ain't great at guessing games so you'll give me a clue if I get stuck, wontcha?"  
"Sure." You giggled. You lifted his hand, carefully straightening out his index finger. He let you do it easily, trusting you. Gently, you traced his fingertip down the silk strap of the expensive, somewhat scandalously cut brassiere you'd bought in town. You looked to his face, and you could see his eyebrows scrunched in concentration, his lips parted, a perfect crescent of light picked out in the wet there. Slowly, you guided his hand lower, releasing his finger so he could explore freely, running his fingertips across the curve of silk and lace. You could tell the exact moment the penny dropped by his soft intake of breath and the rush of crimson on his cheeks, evident even in the comparative dimness of the tent.  
"Do you know what it is yet?" You asked softly, guiding his hand over your breasts, pressing the palm of his hand over your erect nipples, down across your hip to the delicate silk knickers, their eyelash lace edging… His breath seemed to stutter, and you felt your own hitch when he returned his long fingers to your breast, gently pinching at the hard nipple.  
"I have an idea but... maybe you could show me, just to be sure?" He was smiling, a little bashfully, but you loved  
the way it lit his face up. He looked much younger when he smiled.  
"That's fair. Okay, you can open your eyes".  
He did as instructed, his eyes widening as he took in the sight of you before him. You didn't realise you'd been holding your breath until he sighed your name, his hands gently running up your bare arms, fingers delicately following the swell  
of your breasts above the dark petrol-blue lace of the bra.  
"This might be the best present anyone has ever given me." He let his hand brush softly against your waist, and looked up, his face earnest. "Being here with you is the best present I've ever been given".  
You gasped as he pressed his lips to yours, so tentative at first, then bolder, his tongue darting to meet yours as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your body, naked spare same fancy silk and lace underwear, tight against him. Any self consciousness was lost as you moaned his name against his mouth, his hands kneaded the flesh of your bum.  
You broke the kiss only for a moment to pull him towards your bed, your breath feeling light and fractured, but when you pulled him onto the bed you felt him stiffen slightly, his movements suddenly hesitant.  
"Kieran?" You pushed yourself up on one elbow, ducking your head to discern his expression. His eyebrows were knit tightly together. "Are you okay?"  
He was quiet for a beat, and you gently stroked the hair out of his face. "Whatever it is, it's okay. You can talk to me." you whispered soothingly, and he raised his eyes to meet yours.  
"I just... Well, I guess I don't know what you see in me. Hell, look at you. Look at me." he said unhappily.  
"I am looking at you." You whispered, your fingers stroking through the dark hair on his cheeks, over the softness of his lips. "You don't know what you do to me."  
Kieran blinked, and gave a small smile, a little confidence returning. "Really?"  
You took his hand and moved it between your thighs so he could feel the slick already wetting the silk of your knickers.  
"Really."  
He groaned with lust, burying his face against your shoulder. You let go of his hand, allowing him to go at his own pace, happy to lie with him and let him lead. His fingers drew longingly across the taut fabric covering your sex, coaxing a sigh from you. You raised your hips to meet his touch, your fingers carding in his hair.  
"You can take them off, if you want." You could feel every touch, each deliberate stroke. There was a heat that seemed to be coiling somewhere deep in your stomach, something aching that you couldn’t define.   
When he sat up beside you to draw your knickers down, you felt suddenly very shy. Your hand fluttered down, covering yourself before he gently but firmly lifted it to his lips, kissing your knuckles.  
"Please. Let me look at you." His voice was thick with lust and you nodded, letting him remove the flimsy garment and trembling when his fingers resumed lightly running along your lips. You spread your legs a little in encouragement, watching his face with fascination as he explored your body as though he'd never seen it before, until he finally slipped his finger into the slick warmth of your folds. He allowed just a brush of the sensitive nub before he went back to exploring you with one hand, the other finding the nape of your neck and drawing you into a sweet kiss. Each time his finger flickered against your clit, you moaned into his mouth, feeling the smile of his lips on yours as he began slowly to work up the speed. He was an attentive lover, reading the subtle signs your body better than anyone else had ever cared to, adjusting the stroke of his fingers, the pressure... you knew you were soaking, your hips canting against his hand until finally you gripped his wrist and guided his fingers against your opening.   
"Please, Kieran, please... I need to feel you there."  
He cradled you against his body as he pushed his index finger inside you, and you felt your walls tighten around him. He added a second finger when he was sure you were ready, easing in, experimentally opening you, stroking the sweet spots that made you arch your body against him. The sensation was exquisite, a trembling roll of pleasure that seemed to echo through all your nerves. You knew he was watching the expressions of pleasure cross your face, still seeking reassurance although your body bucking against him was strong evidence on it's own. He kissed your check, rolling his fingers inside you, curling them until your breath began to become ragged.  
Your peak seemed to crash into you without much warning, and you buried your face in the linen of his shirt, muffling your cries, the way you gasped his name as he worked each drop of pleasure from you. You shivered in his arms as he stopped, loving the way his mouth tasted as he kissed you.   
"You look beautiful when you're like this…" Kieran said, his face soft. His eyes flicked across your features - maybe he was trying to memorise you the way you tried to with him? You let your hand drop between your bodies, feeling for Kieran's cock. Your fingers had only brushed the hard bulge in his pants when he caught your hand.   
"No, no…" He said, wriggling to undo his belt and then kicking his trousers down, "You don't have to do anything tonight… Let me say thank you for my present. And Branwen's."


End file.
